The Ghost
by Oshawhatt
Summary: [MitsuruxMahiru] Years after the Tears have been collected, and after promising Mitsuru her hand, Mahiru dies mysteriously. However, Mitsuru swears it's not over yet...
1. Nagare

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

_A/N: Alas, my special more-than-one-chaper fiction for CM is finally revealed:) It shall probably be no more than 5 chapters, as the end of the school year is drawing near and I do need to work extra hard in studying for finals. Also, it's quite a bit AUish - as it explains that they healed the Empress with the Tears of the Moon. This is needed for the plot line. Also, Misoka never lost his power to transform. Anyway, the inspiration for this definitely has to be the novel _Wuthering Heights _by Emily Bronte - a haunting romance that left me with goosebumps when I was done with it. The story was so captivating, yet confusing. If you're up for somewhat of a literary challenge(and a great story), I definitely recommend this. It's written during the Romantic Time Period, so expect the same sort of style(yet vastly different) as Poe. Also, Mitsuru's character with be almost based on Heathcliff, the main character of the novel. Mahiru will, in a very slight way, resemble Cathy. Well, enough with my rambling!_

_(One last note, however: first chapter IS a songfic, with lyrics by mewithoutYou from the song 'Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt')_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Crescent Moon, its characters, plot line, etc. (Wow...that was bad.)_

**Prologue - Nagare**

_"Everything was beautiful..._

_And nothing hurt."_

His breathing was shallow, filled with choking and sobs as the past, in his eyes, repeated itself in an elegiac flaunting of mocking hatred right in front of him. Dazed from the sheer emotional pain, he grasped his head with both of his hands, squeezing it tightly and pulling at his already mussed hair. Saliva dripped out of the corner of his gasping mouth; however, in his state, he cared not for his appearance to an outsider. Sobs wracked his entire body, causing him to cough and sputter, like the engine of an old car who had worn itself down long ago. Placing his hands on the ground, he began wretching due to the sobs that choked him so, forcing him to gag and dry-heave until the torment left his body, like a foreign object it would never accept.

"How could you?" he barely whispered, registering the view around him through blurred eyelids which throbbed with the ache of being abused by relentless torrents of tears and many sleepless nights where their owner forced them awake as he stared out the window, deep into the waning moon outside. However, these once vibrant windows to the world remembered more jovial times, when the sun and moon had been one, dancing across the sky together in each others' arms. These days were long past for Mitsuru Suou, yet when he reminisced on his cherished memories, which happened quite often, he held them with utmost praise and wishfulness, desiring to be where he once was long ago - _smiling._

Five entire years had passed since the collection of all seven Tears of the Moon, five years since the Empress's illness had been remedied, five years since the keepers of the 'Moonshine' had moved their residence to the Moon Palace along with their Princess, Mahiru, and _five years since Mitsuru had confessed himself to her. _Mahiru was quite dazed at first, but soon accepted the tengu with a small kiss on the cheek and deeply caring embrace, and for once in his miserable life, Mitsuru had considered himself happy, so happy to actually be living for something other than himself. Bitterly, he remembered how much courage he had to summon up to tell her something as simple as the three words he had uttered for his princess that day, anxious for the answer in return - yet fearing the worst, almost to the point of not wanting to hear her reply. Two years passed seemlessly, two years of utter utopia in the Moon Palace.

_"As we melt, let's make no noise._

_Profanation of our love_

_To tell the world our passing joys."_

Mitsuru's thoughts hushed themselves as he lay on the floor of his residence in the palace, struggling to remember in a good light when he had asked her for her hand, to be his forever, no one else's - his, as selfish as it may have seemed. As before, she accepted timidly, but this time with more passion towards her love. The tengu recalled her lambent, sapphire eyes as she jumped into his waiting arms, crying tears of joy as he placed a sparkling, sea-blue diamond ring upon her refined finger. The band was an exquisite white gold, formed only from the best metels of its kind, that Mitsuru carefully made sure of. Two majestic dolphins surrounded the center gem protectively, their detail absolutely astonishing. He knew that she would love it, with her affection towards water and every creature that made its home in the mysteriously appealing liquid.

"Mahiru," Mitsuru choked out, grinning painfully as he hugged his knees tightly to his chest, as he once had to Mahiru, "She was as permenant as water, damnit. Always flowing, never in the same place twice."

As the tengu immersed himself in his grief-stricken thoughts once more, his sobbing emerged from its hiding place, tearing free of the thin layer that kept the pain at bay for only so long. Mitsuru squeezed his eyes shut, as if the harder he pressed his eyelids together, the less the force would be of the depression he suffered from, every waking and even sleeping moment the excuse of a life his existence had descended to. Yet, the images still came, pouring into him like a downpour of needles of frigid, winter rain. Mahiru's delirious face, as her silky golden hair, now matted with sweat, clung to her perspiring forehead feebly in an effort to cover her obvious discomfort. The worried tengu had gently smoothed the protesting strands back as his dying love's breaths escaped from her lips in an increasingly shallower manner.

The illness had struck fast and hard, yet the physicians claimed it to be a simple case of bronchopneumonia that could be easily cured. However, with each passing day, the Princess's condition only worsened, until after four weeks, Mahiru accepted the fact(upon coming out of the delirium she often lived under while suffering) that she was on her death bed and would cease to live on any given day, so she weakly called her fiance to her bedside to keep vigil for her as she lay dying. Mitsuru came, of course, his eyes a bright red from shedding tears before coming to watch over his Princess in her last few hours. Holding her in his arms gently, as to not cause her further discomfort, the tengu cursed himself over and over for letting this happen to her.

_"And we, besides, care less to miss_

_Our eyes and lips and hands._

_Oh, but honey, I'm not who you think I am!"_

"Mahiru," he had whispered desperately, hoping that she would come to one final time for him. He cursed under his breath as he noticed her wince slightly in pain as she glanced up at him, which he knew caused a lot more hurt than the Princess dared to let on, in place of worrying her friends further.

"M-Mitsuru?" Mahiru gasped out, her crystal-clear eyes shining brightly as she smiled for her demon one last time, "There you are. I've missed you. Say, could you do me a favour...or two?"

"Any...anything at all," the tengu breathed, once again carefully placing strands of hair places elsewhere than her beautiful face, as to not to impair her vision.

"Please smile...it's so hard to leave with you frowning like that," she giggled lightly, a giggle than soon developed into an incredibly hoarse coughing fit that wracked the poor girl's entire body which made Mitsuru's despair increase by nearly ten fold and caused her to wheeze out her next words,"I w-w-want to see your true form once m-m-more."

"Of course, Princess," Mitsuru mumbled softly, interjecting a pet name he'd decided to call her years ago. The tengu forced out a smile that ripped him to shreds inside, sending forth some kind of invisible creature which continually ate away at his insides whenever he layed eyes on his princess. The mere thought of smiling while Mahiru lay in her predicament was unthinkable, and it tormented him to do so. Yet, he forced a smile, albeit a very fake one, for her and only her. Summoning his power that he knew lie deep inside of him, Mitsuru groaned as his true form, that of a tengu, burst forth from its hiding place within a young man's body. Every time he tried to change, it hurt more and more, the pain from Mahiru's sickness dragging him down further into the abyss of desolation, but for her, he managed. A single ebony feather loosened from his crow-like wings and landed on the pale, twisted sheets of the Descendant of the Princess's death bed. She picked it up carefully, then taking it into both hands, rubbed the downy item against her flushed cheek lovingly.

_"So you'll be to me_

_Who must obliquely run._

_Thy firmness makes my circle just,_

_And makes me end where I've begun."_

Mitsuru, consumed with emotion, rushed forth and took Mahiru into his arms, wrapping the lengthy sleeves of his outfit around her gaunt body protectively. She buried her face into the juncture where his should and neck met, light sobs coming from her frail form. The tengu nuzzled her neck soothingly, to perhaps calm the terrified girl in her fear. The girl removed her face from him, sadness pouring out of her sapphire eyes like a rapid, yet tranquil stream. As she placed a trembling hand on the dark markings that overlayed most of his cheek, Mitsuru barely caught a faint whisper that emitted itself from her thin lips.

"I...I don't want to die, Miru," she breathed, including her pet name for him, dread covering her countenance in layers. "Don't l-leave me here alone."

"Never," Mitsuru's deep voice growled out, a little more darkly than he would've preferred, but it chided Mahiru nonetheless.

"Thank you, Miru," the comforted princess purred out, her voice peaceful in her time of terror,"I love you forever." She moved her head slightly, placing a delicate kiss on his nose, then on his trembling lips as she embraced him for the last time. Falling back on to her bed, she fixed Mitsuru with a joyful stare, her crystal-blue eyes vibrant and vivid with emotion, yet it wasn't fear or sorrow, it was an everlasting look of serenity that the tengu would remember forever and on. Slowly, Mahiru's dark eyelashing touched her blushing cheeks, and her lips formed themselves into a gentle smile, to stay that way forever.

She never woke up.

* * *

"DAMNIT!" Mitsuru screamed, a mere week after Mahiru's death, as he lay on the floor of the room they once shared, reminiscing. He sat up, anger etched deeply into his once melancholy features as he glanced around, looking for something that wasn't there to the naked eye. Growling deeply, he stood up completely and transformed, howling in agony at the sheer pain the process caused him to endure. Flapping his glossy wings twice, he gripped his large hands together firmly, a determined look setting itself deeply within his face. 

"I swear to you, Mahiru Shiraishi, I'll find you. You're not gone yet, damnit. I'll find a way to reverse this. _You'll come back to me - as Mahiru Suou!"_

_"There's nothing wrong, _

_As I'll be somewhere singing all along._

_No! Tell me, where have you gone, my love?"_

* * *

_A/N: Well, there's the prologue. Sorry for the long A/N up front, I just needed to explain a few things. Anyway, this story is gonna be very angsty, kiddies. Probably more so than now. Well, until next time!(probably in a few days or so)_

_Reviews make me very happy. :)_


	2. Hinoko

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

**Chapter One - Hinoko **

"Mitsuru."

A repremanding voice shot out with definite command lying in its tones, causing the frenetic tengu to turn to view who had disturbed his agonizing oaths to himself and his deceased love. Standing in the doorway resolutely, with his lengthy, slim arms crossed, stood Misoka Asagi in his complete were-fox form. His apathetic golden eyes bore down on Mitsuru, seemingly reading into his soul and mind, pulling every secret he had hidden out into the open for all to see and his magnificent ears were pressed forward, catching every trace of sound that reverberated throughout the dusky, mellow room. The fox stepped forward, his coarse, wooden sandles clacking loudly on the floor as he walked towards the tengu deliberately, a disapproving look glowing on his face.

"What are you planning on doing?" The wise half-human demanded, his eyes narrowing pointedly in silent accusation, "If you're planning on using a Tear to revive Mahiru, you may drop that idea now." The tengu's eyes flashed darkly as Misoka continued,"We need all seven to ensure that the Lunar Race remains healthy and whole, especially the Empress and Lord Shirogane."

Mitsuru chuckled bitterly, scoffing the idea of their importance compared to his Mahiru. In his eyes, they were but a speck in the broad spectrum of humans and Lunar Race alike, and his Mahiru encompassed nearly everything he did, said, or acted upon. If he had even planned to use one of _those_ Tears to revive his fiance, he would've stolen one of the gems and executed that plan a very long time ago, regardless of what happened to him along the way. Death was better for him than Mahiru; after all, she'd only ever wanted to escape the fearful thing, and he'd embrace it endearingly if it meant that his princess could breathe, talk, laugh, and sing once more.

Snarling viciously, Mitsuru gathered his wind currents around him, and forced them to lift him off the ground, so that he stood hovering a few inches off the floor, giving him the advantage of height to use against Misoka, whose form still stood firm like his voice. The tengu sneered haughtily at the fox he had hated since he had met and began to speak.

"I wasn't planning on using a Tear, _Misoka_," Mitsuru's voice dripped sarcasm, yet the always stoic Misoka's countenance did not change. "I have another plan, that involves a different sort of gem...a Tear, you could say. I've been doing my research."

The side of Misoka's mouth twitched humourously, as he attempted to abait his laughter, causing Mitsuru to grit his teeth to keep from lunging at the fox who mocked him as if he was merely kidding around with something frivilous. Mahiru's death was not something he preferred to laugh about, and the fox was acting like it was a mere everyday happening at the Moon Palace at which they lived. The large tengu floated forward a few inches, a fixed glare impressed upon his features the entire time, as he came within two feet of a highly skeptical Misoka. He cracked his knuckles as if he wanted to wrap his hands around the werefox's neck and choke him for his insolence towards his motives.

"There is no other Tear, Mitsuru. Despite what the _stories_," Here Misoka smirked,"have told you, there is not another one. I've heard those myths as well." As the fox looked the vehement tengu over, his features softened somewhat as he added quietly, "Just let the Princess go, Mitsuru. She left with a smile on her face, and I'm sure she was content that she passed by your side. Your grief is simply running its course. It might take some time, but you'll get over it. Just give it time. You'll find another one who will be your bride one day."

"How can you say that, you goddamn fox?" Mitsuru whispered, tightening his mouth into a thin line as he felt the warmth of tears pricking at the sides of his eyes, "There is no other person who could _ever _replace Mahiru. If I cannot have her as mine, then I will not have anyone at all. The way you're acting really makes me think. Damnit, Misoka! Do you even care that she's gone?" The tengu felt like he was chewing on a bushel of cotton as he struggled to continue, tightening his fists, "She's the only one I've ever loved in my life, damnit. I don't care what the odds are that this Tear even exists. I still have to try for her."

Misoka exhaled heavily, shutting his golden eyes lightly as he struggled to hold in the emotion that was a direct result of the Princess's sudden passing. As he unclosed them, he surveyed the emotional wreck in front of him with sincere thought on the matter, the decision to let Mitsuru execute his plans in the manner he wished hanging in the delicate balance of Misoka's heart and generousity. The were-fox pondered on what Nozomu and Akira would want for a split second, only to realize that if they were in Mitsuru's position, they would not even hesitate on the issue on whether or not to bring Mahiru back into the world of the living. Misoka even admitted to himself that he wished to see the Princess alive and well again, as he realized that she had most definitely died a premature death, succumbing to illness at the mere age of 23, just as she was ready to start a life with her future husband. In fact, their wedding had been scheduled for next month, long before the illness had stricken her, back when everything was as it should've been in the Moon Palace which seemed like an eternity ago. Making his final decision, Misoka tugged at the tip of his reddish brownish ear lightly and began to speak.

"Mitsuru, you may go in search of this Tear, fictional or not," Misoka proclaimed, almost excitedly, watching as the tengu's eyes lightened up immediately at the prospect of finding a way to have Mahiru in his arms again, "However," the were-fox continued,"If you do indeed find this fabled 'Eighth Tear of the Moon', you must immediately report it to the Empress and Lord Shirogane, and they will then decide what happens with it. The chance that they will grant you permission to use the Tear on Mahiru is high, as there does not seem to be any ill effect on the Lunar Race without it."

Mitsuru nodded slightly, barely registering everything that Misoka was saying, awed by the fact that he might yet have his Mahiru back. He melted as gradually as ice in spring back into his human form, after which he combed back his messy teal hair with a pale, shaking hand as he began to make plans to leave in his mind silently, the excitement at this rare prospect overwhelming his senses. The tengu had read quite a few ancient, barely readable scrolls about a possible Eighth Tear of the Moon. All pointed to the same general direction, which he took as a positive sign. The scrolls claimed that the Tear lay dormant somewhere in Osaka, Nozomu's birthplace. Suddenly, he heard a slight noise sounding like a cough, causing him to startle a bit, realizing it was Misoka. Slowly raising his sharp, amber eyes to gaze at Misoka, the man did something he had never done for the fox in his life.

"I know that in the past, we bit at each other's throats constantly, but I just...want to thank you for this Misoka," Mitsuru injected in a restrained voice, feeling the recently common burning sensation of emotion rising up throughout his body. Rapidly, the rather embarrased tengu turned away and began digging through the drawers where he kept most of his clothes as he started to pack for his journey. Misoka watched him silently, almost amused at his candid display which he knew Mitsuru was desperately trying to hold back to maintain the image he had struggled to obtain for so long, the image that had begun to fade through the dilligent work of the delicate, caring hands of Mahiru Shiraishi.

"You have a week and no longer, Mitsuru," Misoka said benignly, careful not to hurt the tengu, and continued, "The same time tomorrow evening a week from now, we will bury the Princess. Her body won't last forever; the soul needs to be called back to it very soon, otherwise you'll lose your chance. Pack quickly and leave as soon as possible."

Mitsuru muttered something that Misoka couldn't discern, waving the fox out so he could make preperations for his journey that his entire life rested dangerously on. His entire life rested on a wire, and Misoka knew very well that if the winds that Mitsuru usually controlled shifted even slightly in the wrong direction, all would be lost for the despairing tengu, and he would probably end up taking his life if he could not bring back Mahiru's, with the grief-stricken mentality that if the Princess's half of their soul was lost forever, then his would be as well. After all, the soul cannot fully leave without its other half.

'May the moon bless you, Mitsuru Suou,' Misoka thought as he left the busy tengu alone, 'And I pray that perhaps our kind and loving moon has one more Tear to spare for you and your Princess.'

* * *

"Are you serious, Misoka?" A startled blonde-haired, blue-eyed vampire yelped out nearly an hour later, long after Mitsuru had left the grounds of the palace, and even Kyoto for that matter. Incredulous, Nozomu stared at the sage fox as if he were insane, as he had always wondered whenever Misoka presented a seemingly obscure idea to himself and his werewolf companion. Sighing heavily, the 24 year-old sunk back into his seat, covering his deeply depressed face with both of his hands as he struggled to calm his erratic breathing which had jumped upon him when Misoka had presented him with the news of Mitsuru's journey to bring back Mahiru. 

"It sounds crazy," Nozomu murmured to himself as he thought, yet he was still optimistic that there may be a chance to revive his departed friend. "But then again, if it's for Mahiru, then it shouldn't matter." He shifted his gaze over to Akira, who was close to crying tears of joy at the chance that he had long ago let go as a mere dream. The werewolf's sabled ears began to sag as he started to weep profusely, as he had so often in the week following the death of Mahiru, whom he considered a dear sister.

"Let's h-hope Mitsuru finds that Tear," Akira choked out softly, intertwining his fingers and placing his elbows on the table before him in silent prayer. "For our Princess, Mahiru," he stopped, then softly added, "And for himself."

_"I look down, she's asleep_

_In a place she can smile again._

_The world will forget her_

_As she disappears to them._

_I swore I'd love her,_

_I'd rather pretend._

_'All these tears are for you'...words."_

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the first chapter. Well, I updated much sooner than I thought I would. I believe this fic will be a bit longer than I had originally planned. No problem, though. 

Supporting reviews help me much...:)


	3. Koyokaze

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

**Chapter Two - Koyokaze**

As her eyes closed lightly, almost transparently, she kept the last waking image she viewed deep within the recesses of her mind: the trembling face of Mitsuru, immensely worried even in his usually infuriated tengu form. She watched as a single teardrop fell from his encrimsoned eyes and on to her cheek, then knew no more in the material realm that she had lived in and loved most. However, the image still lingered, floating around her mind like a rampant ping pong ball, and suddenly, she felt that the framed picture of his face that she held dearly in her mind would be of some relevance; of what kind, she did not know at the moment.

Blackness and silence swirled around her, surrounding her in a lethal cacoon of chaos, rapidly twisting images, and disoriented songs that sang their strangled voice out into the silence that surrounded her, yet still the silence somehow remained in its whole. It was not a noise, yet something that encompassed her body and every breath she took; the blackness and the silence mixed in a dance that disgusted and worried her with some fear she could not identify, yet a fear that swallowed her up into its gaping mouth and held her prisoner there until it ran its course through the same votex that she was floating through like a ghost. She tried to speak, to scream, but the nothingness ate away at everything that she tried to do, chewing her up and spitting her out of its proverbial mouth with excessive violence. Shivering, she lifted her eyes up, which seemed to be the only movement she could force herself to do, towards a twinkling light that lay right above her face, shining out purely and justly.

The her surprise, there were pictures without sound moving across the infinite expanse above her, and she could see Mitsuru and her in various scenes at moments where time seemed to stop, or really did stop in her human mind. The images on the screen blurred sickeningly, lurching back and forth rapidly until they settled one lone event, and the girl blushed when she remembered what it was, yet remembered it with a feeling of warmth that spread from her stomach to her toes, perhaps the only warmth she had felt in the time since she had first lost view of Mitsuru's face. From the screen above her, sound beginning to creep to her ears, faintly at first, then growing louder like heavy footsteps in an impenetrable fog. It echoed cruelly, reminding her of everything she lost and feared.

"Mahiru," Mitsuru's voice growled out deep from within the confines of his throat, yet it held no anger or cruelty, instead an anxious tone underlying everything, "Please look at me."

Standing on the light, Mahiru saw herself lift her eyes slightly up to gaze at Mitsuru who, upon viewing this, took her wrist in his hand and pulled her closer to him. The Mahiru upon the screen gasped lightly almost trying to make pointless struggles of getting out of his grasps, yet she restrained herself and forced her eyes to look at the boy in front of her. The tengu moved his face closer to hers, the Movie-Mahiru's eyes widening as he did so.

"Why do you do this to me?" Mitsuru breathed, before placing his lips on hers gently before the movie began to fade swiftly, like the remaining rays of sunlight in the dusky twilight, before night ascended. The empty world where Mahiru currently lay began to spin again, seemingly trying to lurch itself against its invisible confines in desperate escape. Suddenly, the world righted itself in a shuddering vibration that shrilly screamed the word 'pain' in the princess's ears in voice of a child. The darkness birthed a sudden flash of misty light, and Mahiru could move again. She was right where she had begun, laying back on the bed with her eyes closed. Slowly, she opened them, and climbed off the bed, noticing that the pain from her illness had seemingly disappeared. Turning around the glance at the bed, her stomach dropped through the floor as cold fear stabbed her like an icicle.

Mahiru's body lay on the bed, flushed and smiling, as she had fallen asleep. However, it was completely void of all life as her chest was still and her body was not moving at all, like in the normal euphoria of sleep. She went numb, falling to her knees and staring increduously at her hands that seemed solid, but she knew otherwise. Tears coursed from her eyes as she realized the immenant truth of her dire situation.

"No," Mahiru choked out, burying her face in her arms, her chest heaving with the impact of her discovery, "I promised myself I wouldn't leave him just yet."

Suddenly, a door slammed open behind her and, whipping her head around rapidly, Mahiru saw Mitsuru standing paralyzed in the doorway, changed back into the form of a human man. The widened whites of his eyes were colored red, as was his entire face, colored red by the messy crayon of sorrow. Time stopped again, Mahiru knowing that he did not see her, as he was focused on the shell of a body that lay smiling on its deathbed. Letting out a strangled cry, the tengu rushed forward to the tangled mess of sheets, picking up the body encased by them and checking its pulse. After several tries of feeling nothing, Mitsuru gave up, staring blankly at the once vibrant girl who lay motionless before him.

"No, Mahiru, please," he begged softly, stroking her paled hand with trembling fingers, "You're not gone yet, are you? Damnit, don't leave me like everyone else has..." Tears built themselves up in Mitsuru's eyes, so much that he had to look away and sob softly, still ashamed of his tears in front of her, even if all that remained of her physically was a mere corpse.

Mahiru watched desperately, shocked and still with emotion. When Mitsuru began crying, a squeak emerged from her throat and she threw herself forward to embrace him tenderly in his pain. However, the princess only fell through her fiance, dropping painlessly to the floor as no physical pain is felt after death. She watched Mitsuru whip his head up and look around, the color draining from his face as if he had seen a ghost. Mahiru almost smiled, realizing how close he was to the truth of what had really happened, only to feel the stabbing pain of despair again when Mitsuru buried his face in her cold, lifeless hand and began to shake. He soon stopped, however, noticing the tears he had left on her still grinning face. Tenderly, he wiped away the warm droplets with his hand, his fingers tracing the gentle contours of her face as he placed one last kiss on her slightly parted lips, then he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Mitsuru," Mahiru gasped out, wanting to follow him but strangely bound the the room where her life had left like a lightening flash in a storm. She couldn't leave for some reason, and so was destined to remain there until her corpse was placed beneath the surface of the damp, dark earth.

* * *

With the wind literally at his feet, Mitsuru Suou threw himself through the air violently, reaching below him and grabbing at the air currents below him, shoving them behind him rapidly for increased speed. Pure fury was masked around his face as he flew, the birds scattering around him as he soared by. The animals could sense his anger and also his pain, not wanting to be in his way when he went by. His thoughts were clouded with the clues he had read in the scrolls that were in the Moon Palace's immense library. All pointed to what seemed to be some old, forgotton shrine just outside of Osaka. The tengu had not mentioned that this tear was rumoured to be the most powerful of them all to Misoka, as he wanted some chance to revive Mahiru before the Empress or Shirogane interfered with his plans. He also knew that the precious gem would be guarded by extremely powerful protection spells that still held their vigour, even after many years of existence. He would have to think of some way to get past them without causing himself any potential harm.

Greyish buildings peaked up in front of the sunrise suddenly, tearing at the sky with excessive force, fully earning their name as 'sky scrapers'. Mitsuru almost sighed in relief as he neared the city, yet fully knowing that this was only the beginning in his desperate quest to save Mahiru.

* * *

**A/N: Erm...sorry it's so short. My computer crashed while I was nearly done with this chapter, so I had to rewrite it completely. Well, expect more later!**

**Thanks to those who reviewed! And to those who haven't yet...remember to feed to authoress!**


	4. Ookawa

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

**Chapter Three - Ookawa**

Faces surrounded him, on every side, but they held no soul or purpose. They simply existed, like the seemingly annoying insects do. They marched and hurried in their crowds around Mitsuru, pushing and stumbling all over each other to win the obscure race of the city with their far-fetched purposes to be exactly on time. The tengu despised the loudness and chaos of the place and as soon as he had entered the turmoil of the city, he had immediately missed the tranquility of the Moon Palace where he had spent the last five years of his life. He had grown so used to the quiet of the hidden world that it had become his second nature to startle immediately at any kind of disruptive noise. In fact, he hadn't ventured out of the premesis very often, except to go to dinner with Mahiru or to occasionally visit her aunt's house in Tokyo. These stays were always brief and usually didn't involve entering the inner city where the confusion reached its peak, unless Mahiru had wanted to.

A sad smile tugged at Mitsuru's lips as he remembered their last date before the illness had stricken Mahiru, their excursion that involved dashing all over the streets and alleyways of Tokyo, as giddy as the couple of teenagers they once were, guffawing and beaming like idiots, just being content with life as it was. Mahiru had given Mitsuru countless reasons to flip his frown upside down and laugh with her because he couldn't resist her charm and silly antics, no matter how bad of a mood he had immersed himself in. Even after she had left him, her request that he smile lingered, ringing sweetly in his ears like a tiny, mournful bell, so he complied with what she wanted and smiled, no matter how false or idiotic he felt in doing so. He'd put up with it for her and her alone as it was her dying wish. Shaking his head as if to physically clear his thoughts away, Mitsuru sighed and looked at the mysteriously ominous sign bearing the word, 'Information' that loomed above his head in a most unwelcome manner. Shrugging off the feeling of dread that began to creep up his spine sinisterly, the tengu pushed open the shining, glass door accompanied with the tiny tinkling sound of a bell.

Once inside, Mitsuru began browing the shelves and shelves of brochures, searching for the one row that would contain information about local shrines and the manner. Although the tengu knew that the one that concealed the Tear would probably not even be known to the general human population, it was worth a try for Mahiru's sake. Sighing in an annoyed way, he stopped looking and grabbed every single pamphlet having to do with shrines that his exhausted amber eyes could focus on. Soaring through the sky all night until daybreak was starting to show its melancholy effects on Mitsuru, plus the sorrow from Mahiru's death was still eating away at his dilapidated soul. Holding the bundle of precious information in his left arm, the tengu walked towards the counter to purchase with his eyes downcast and his mind heavily consumed in thought. Not watching where he was going, he ended up colliding with an older man with a muffled 'oomph'. Looking up to apologize, Mitsuru froze in his tracks and stared, wondering where he could've seen that face before.

"Are you all right?" the man questioned snidely, his lips quirking with a surpressed smirk as he looked a confused Mitsuru over with searching eyes that seemed to reconize him from somewhere else.

"Y-Yeah." The tengu mumbled in reply, picking up a few of the brochures that had fallen and rearranging them in his arms. "Sorry."

The man just chuckled, his eyes narrowing with laughter towards Mitsuru, who was standing before him, not moving a muscle. Finally, the mysterious man left, but not until looking Mitsuru over thoroughly, leaving a certain tengu with even more chaos and fear in his mind than before. After paying for his pamphlets, he left the shop, the tinkle from the bell clinking mockingly towards the tengu, as if it knew something that he did not. Mitsuru re-adjusted the featherweight plastic bag on his shoulder and glared at a few girls dressed in full school uniform as they walked by him and giggled coyly, trying to attract his attention to the insanely short pieces of cloth that covered their bottom half, upset by a stray breeze or two, or maybe to get him to actually approach and started conversing. Mitsuru didn't really give a damn either way.

"I need to work harder...," he muttered to himself, glancing up at a darkening sky, heralding an approaching thunderstorm.

Fleeing from the girls into a secluded alley, Mitsuru closed his eyes tightly and leaned against the imposing brick wall that was to his back, burying his tired face into his slightly red hands that were shaking from the toll his emotions were taking on him, betraying his cool composure physically. The tengu recomposed himself, shaking his head lightly, a determined look masking the tears that were about to surface a mere moment before.

'Damnit, Mitsuru. You know there are more important things to worry about.' he thought, angry with himself for even considering to rest for a few minutes. Suddenly, an icy feeling coursed through his body, conjuring nausea and emptiness from nowhere, a feeling that fled seconds after it had come. The air around him held an ethereal aura and from nowhere, a whisper found itself racing back and forth violently within the confines of Mitsuru's ear.

"Rest, please. Don't hurt yourself, Miru, please." A haunting voice rang out as a humid series of air scraped the edge of Mitsuru's ears, feeling uncannily like someone's breath on his ears. All of the tengu's remaining color drained from his face, knowing the voice all to well.

"No, Mahiru," he gasped, clutching at his chest, deja-vu sweeping over him like a broom, "Come back to me, please! I know I'm not hallucinating, damnit! I KNOW YOU'RE HERE!"

His frantic, tortured screams were lost in the breath of the rising, morning air and were carried away like broken wishes to be lost over the sky scrapers, standing proud against the silouette of a sky blackened by clouds.

* * *

As Mahiru lay on her hated death bed listlessly as she had since Mitsuru had left to find the Eighth Tear, frantically praying that Mitsuru would be okay, a faint, yet strong choking scream reached her ears from somewhere inside her brain, one that belonged to the tengu. He begged her to come back, a more desperate plead from her love than the girl heard in her entire life and afterlife. The Princess threw her entire self up, her mouth hanging open with disbelief and excitement. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she almost pulled her mouth up into a smile, wondering if he had heard her fading prayers. Drawing her knees up tight against her chest, she rocked back and forth, newfound hope igniting the first sparks in her heart.

"Are you listening to me, Mitsuru? Be careful, please," she whispered with a trembling voice, clinging to what ever optimism she had left.

"Come back for me."

* * *

Sleep hid her in whatever covert position it had the power to conceal in, veiling her in white satin like a nervous bride. The wispy veil remained for days, months, years, even to the extent that she gave up the hope of ever waking up from the impenitrable nightmare her reality had twisted itself into becoming, cruelly enough. However, nothing lasted forever, especially in the detatched world that the girl existed in and slowly the veil, overgrown with cobwebs and dust, was lifted carefully one bleak, summers day, as she opened her shining eyes for the first time in almost five years. However, as soon as her eyes unclosed themselves, disgust filled every fiber of her frail being as she viewed the eyes and face and hair of the person, the horrible man, that had shoved her into her coma-induced sleep for such a long time. She hissed as an onslaught of light suddenly reached her eyes; her pupils squeezed themselves shut to avoid recieving too much too soon. The bastard man who sat by her bedside smiled overly sweetly, finishing awakening her.

"You," she growled dangerously, hatred flashing against the portraits of her eyes, "What the hell is your problem?"

"Oh, so you're finally awake, love?" he replied in a neutral voice, standing up with some difficulty that showed in the worn lines of his face, "I certainly thought you would sleep forever. It's a good thing I woke you up."

Her fury mounted indescribably, nearly blinding her with rage, part of a grudge that had built in her sleep for years and years. She wanted to spit in his face, to wrap her frail, pale hands around his neck and choke him till the breath left his mouth and his face contorted, turing to an undesirable blue-ish tint. She, however, desired it more than anything she had ever desired in her life. His eloquent tongue did not confuse or fool her in the least; she knew his motives, just as clearly as she had before the Sleep had taken her from the world temporarily.

"I hate you," she spat, gripping the sheets that covered her around her naked body protectively.

"Ah, but love, hate is such a strong word," he replied, honey dripping like poison out of the edges of his smirking grin, "Besides, I own you, my little birdie. You do what I say, or there will be consequences. Isn't that right, my darling Keiko?"

Keiko did not respond; instead, she looked down at herself and closed her eyes tightly, holding back from lashing out as it would get her no further in her prediciment than she was already in now. Instead, she looked away towards her hands, replying to the man in a weak, shaky voice. She had promised herself she would never succumb to him and his ways, but now things seemed to be growing much bleaker for her and her fate than she could ever image.

"Yes, Hokuto."

"Yesterday you gave your burden a face.  
Yesterday you gave your burden a name.  
But your burden looks an awful lot like her.  
Love rhymes with pity now.  
Love rhymes with sympathy now."

"Love Rhymes With Hideous Car Wreck" by Blood Brothers

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**A/N: I believe this chapter is a bit under par compared to the rest. I apologize for that, but the plot building was esstential for the story to continue. Oh, and many thanks to my lovely reviewers!**


	5. Hinote

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

**ChapterFour - Hinote**

'It's taking too long.'

Desperate thoughts coursed through Mitsuru's head as his frantic search for what he called 'The Shrine of the Eighth Tear' continued without so much as a half smile from the devious Lady Luck. Locking his jaw in place tightly and gritting his teeth together painfully, the tengu moodily stared out at the silouettes of the buildings against the fading horizon of the city where the bustle of the work day was slowly ceasing and being replaced with the clever crawl of those who thrived during the night. He sighed, closing his darkened amber eyes tightly, forcing his emotions back into the pit of his heart where they lay captive in public places. The third day of his search was setting, heralding the rise of the half moon into a sky dotted with stars, most blocked by the 'protective' smog that curtained the city. So far, all of his efforts had been fruitless to the extent of frustration as the horrible thought of simply giving up and allowing Mahiru to rot within the earth began to creep up along the unguarded edges of his thoughts.

"No!" he growled suddenly, banging his fist along the cold, metal railing that lined the edge of the building he was currently resting the weight of his body on, "Damnit, Mitsuru! Why would you even think something like that? She needs you..."

Falling to his knees, Mitsuru whimpered pitifully and allowed his emotions to grasp him in their sickly hands once more. Shuddering as stray tears coursed down his flushed cheeks, he looked up at the sweet orb of his Mother Moon, who glowed an eerie, pale yellow and allowed a smile to tug at the edges of his lips. Neglect to his person showed clearly in the light of the moon; stubble grew all over the sides of his face, above his upper lip, and under his chin; dark, weary bags framed the bottom of his eyes; and direct neglect of his nutrition was displayed from his lack of energy. His voice emerged, choking and soft.

"I will never fail you."

Calling the ever faithful winds to his hands once more, the exhausted Mitsuru continued his trek above the moonlit city of Osaka, unaware of the deviant eyes which beheld his every move with cunning and cruel calculation. Hokuto smirked snidely as he watched the tengu soar away, whom he knew was too consumed in his grief to even sense the presence of him and his dear seer, Keiko. Turning, he placed his steely, cold eyes upon the girl who had just taken in her full image aged in 5 years and sighed dramatically, bowing his head in mock despair.

"Oh, what ever will we do, my dear?" Poisoned wine casually dripped out of his mouth, causing Keiko's gaze to harden immensely, her hatred of the one who owned her growing every second.

"Oh, shut up, Hokuto," Keiko spat, venom dripping from the corners of her lips in invisible trails, "You know exactly what we're doing. We're leading that stupid tengu to the shrine where the Eighth Teardrop is and then we shall dispose of him."

Hokuto's smirk grew broadly as he placed a casual arm around a disgusted Keiko, who looked ready to completely destroy the man in front of her at any given moment. With her fists clenched together painfully, she growled lightly and picked up the arm that was draped around her shoulders, removing it with grimacing disdain. Shuddering away her loved yet despised feelings, the silenced medium replaced them with an indifference so powerful that she knew no one would ever be able to look through it, casting her eyes over in a very melancholy manner towards her fiance as he spoke.

"Very good, my little eyes!" he praised, almost sarcastically, "Poor man. He won't even know what hit him. Ah, well. All's fair in love and war."

Keiko 'hmphed' as Hokuto raised a questioning eyebrow to her.

"Well, well. I'll let that pass this time, dear. Now, all we need to do is put a spell on the Tear to intensify its aura and then lead him to the Bakufu Shrine when we're fully prepared..."

* * *

_2 Days Later..._

The feeling started at a mere twinge far back within the very corners of Mitsuru's mind, but soon began to gradually intensify to become an immense pounding and tugging towards somewhere nearby. The tengu kept the annoyance at bay by trying to think of other matters, yet still it persisted its never-tiring drum beat deep within, so much until his fray with his curiousity ceased, the second winning triumphantly. During the deep night of the fifth day, he began his inquisitive pursuit of the ache. To his amazement, it actually lead him on in certain directions, until Mitsuru Suou was standing in front of the Bakufu Shrine, one of the areas he had already searched but had recieved no luck with. His heart began to pound against his chest rapidly as he suddenly realized what the feeling was.

"Could it be? The Teardrop?" he murmered softly, staring at the quiet doors that lay in front of him with apalled wonder.

"You are quite right, sir," A voice ejected deep into Mitsuru's thoughts from the impenetrable darkness inside of the mysterious shrine, causing the tengu to startle suddenly, as he crouched low to the cold, dusty earth and glanced around at his surroundings suspiciously to search for the owner of the despised voice. He knew he had heard those deep tones before, from somewhere else from a very long time ago. A man, the same man the tengu had bumped into earlier on in the week, emerged from the desolute corners of the building, garbed in traditional robes with an old-fashioned bow held in his hand and a sinister looking quiver of arrows at rest on his back. Suddenly, memories flew back into Mitsuru's head, his amber eyes widening with shock as he remembered the tense incidents with Dawn's Venus, five long years ago, almost forgotton in the carefree passage of Time.

"Hokuto..." he growled out, clenching his reddening hands in fists, then relaxing them as he regained his composure to look the hated enemy over with a seething countenance. It was then the tengu noticed the pale, thin woman standing behind Hokuto in a stoic fashion, arms crossed tightly against her chest and narrowed eyes blazing with a barely contained conflagration. Mitsuru suddenly recieved a very strong empathetic feeling coming from her, one that screamed, 'I don't want to be here!'

"My, my, Keiko," Hokuto sneered broadly, half looking towards the one he was addressing and half towards Mitsuru, "Wasn't it fun to make this little tengu suffer by killing off his little girlfriend?"

Like a knife, the syllables Hokuto had just uttered pierced through Mitsuru's chest like melted butter, cutting straight into the remains of his rapidly dying heart. His mouth opened slightly as he tried to utter a cry, yet not a sound emerged from his gaping mouth, the tears behind his eyes threatening vehemently to force themselves out of confinement and spill down the paled cheeks of the tengu like warm blood from a freshly reopened wound. Falling to his knees, he let the entire truth of everything sink in like a rapidly capsizing ship. His dulled eyes widened, realizing that everything suddenly made sense. Mahiru's disease was not natural, but instead caused by magic. The tengu wanted to die a thousand deaths and more for his stupidity at not seeing the truth.

"You...bastard," Mitsuru choked out, gripping the dirt beneath his palms firmly, his arms shaking with the force of his emotion. Looking up at Hokuto, the tengu's eyes rapidly changed from human to animalistic, pain and fury mixed in the pools that melted everything they gazed upon with sheer force. Markings crept up the side of his face, spilling out like ink upon pristine, white paper.

"I'll rip you from miserable limb to miserable limb," Mitsuru snarled, his transformation already beginning to take place right before Keiko and Hokuto's eyes, much to the latter's immense pleasure. Calmly, Hokuto removed an arrow from the quiver on his back and put the deadly object in place on the bow with delicate, graceful ease.

"Well," he proclaimed, eyes twinkling sinisterly, "Today you die, tengu."

His response was a feral cross between snarl and growl, filled with loathing, sorrow, and the pain of being forced into depression by someone else.

"Not until she lives again."

* * *

**A/N: It's finally done! Erg, sorry it took forever. I had to go to a retreat, I had a bazillion projects and reports in school, I was having relationship problems...but that's all over now! **

**I 3 Reviews**


	6. Reppuu

**The Ghost**

**by Korii Shoujo**

**Chapter Six - Reppuu**

Pushing on his entire weight, Mitsuru propelled himself forth, preparing to grab Hokuto by the neck and squeeze the life out of his worthless body. Instead, he drew back rapidly, narrowing his encrimsoned eyes as the smirking man deftly motioned to the arrow that he had within his disgusting grasp. Surely yet somewhat lazily, Hokuto pulled back the thin string and arrow back, aiming the projectile straight into the heart of the snarling tengu masterfully. Mitsuru's enraged winds, much like his mood, swirled around him in a violent whirlwind defiantly, nearly knocking the weapon from Hokuto's grasp. The leader of Dawn's Venus turned away from the fray in front of him, shielding his eyes from the stinging gasp of the wind. The gusts whipped the light cloth of his haori to and fro angrily, seemingly wanting to punish him for destroying the life of another without a thought. Lightening crackled deviously from above, enabling Mitsuru with the power to seriously injure or even kill.

"Surrender now and I'll bring you to the Moon Palace as prisoners!" the tengu's deep voice boomed out commandingly from above, the essense of lightning, thunder and wind - the destruction of a storm filled with vigour, "Or I'll take your worthless lives right now!"

Hokuto opened his mouth to protest vehemently, but shut it quickly as his mind was consumed with cold, calculating thoughts. Mitsuru hovered about uneasily, flapping his ebony wings every once in awhile to remain at his invisible perch in the air. Hokuto's eyes trailed over the a thoroughly disgusted Keiko, as he surveyed her sarcastic form with rapt interest. All the while, the winds wailed through the trees, dancing with their leaves as the lightening lept from cloud to cloud, leaving the remnants of its crooked trail weaving throughout the darkened sky. Finally coming to a decision, Hokuto glanced up at the tengu with a definite smirk in his eyes.

"All right, sir. We shall come to this Moon Palace with you without a fight." he coldy pronounced, watching Mitsuru's every move as the wary tengu floated down from the sky slowly, melting like butter back into the form of a man. The sky cleared of its upset; the wind was layed gently and gradually to rest. As he fell, Hokuto added softly, "With the Teardrop."

"Right." Mitsuru hissed, feeling triumphant, yet still extremely suspicious of the sorcerer's motives as to coming to the Moon Palace. Pushing aside the strong feeling of dread that captivated his mind, the tengu continued, "One wrong move and both of your are fried."

Hokuto lowered his chin slightly in a disgruntled nod of agreement, glancing over at Keiko, who was trying to hide her strong emotions on the matter. Her heart beat quickened suddenly as she had a fleeting thought, or vision of someone she once knew from a long time ago, before the sleep and endless darkness ate up her life into nothingness. The seer could almost rest her frantic eyes upon the elusive face, glowing and smiling, something she somehow sensed. Shrugging it off, her stoic mask slid itself back into place, causing Hokuto to lose interest.

"Come on, you two," Mitsuru growled deeply, his eyes flashing with the potent venom of a deadly snake as he began to prepare to depart, "I believe there is a way back to the Moon Palace from here..."

Later...

"Empress and Lord Shirogane," Mitsuru belt forward in a much-practiced, elegant bow in front of his rulers. The immediate fire and excitement behind his eyes was barely contained, as his chance to regain his princess grew ever closer. The tengu could hardly keep his body from trembling, the waves of joyful pleasure coursing from his very spine, down through his singing nerves. Mitsuru, Hokuto, and Keiko had just arrived at the Moon Palace, along with the shining Eighth Teardrop, apparently not just a silly legend cooked up by a bored demon. The latter two stood silently, their hands cuffed and their forms held still by grumbling guards.

"I have located an Eighth Teardrop of the Moon," Mitsuru proclaimed, presenting a tiny box in his pocket while falling to his knees, leaning forward and presenting the powerful gem to the two rulers. He cleared his choked up throat before continuing, "And since it seems that the Lunar Race has no problems surviving in a healthy manner without the Teardrop, I would like to request its use to revive my future bride, the deceased Princess Mahiru Shiraishi. She died prematurely, due to magic caused by this sorcerer." Mitsuru shot a glare towards Hokuto as he shifted uneasily.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room like a stiffling blanket as the Empress regarded Mitsuru with an unreadable expression, her obsidian hair falling around her fragile body in waves as she fanned herself in a very thoughtful manner. She sucked in a deep breath, turning the manner over in her mind almost like deciding which kind of kimono she wanted to clothe herself in for the day. The ruling woman knew she could not trust Shirogane in this matter, as he would not hesitate in granting permission to the sorrow-ridden tengu. He loved the one who had healed him very much, and was shocked beyond tears upon the news of her death. The Empress knew that if there was no ill effect upon the Lunar Race, the move would be good politically. Most of the now flourishing population loved the girl for healing the royal family and many mourned her premature death. Making up her mind, the Empress spoke, her words like a velvet stream.

"Rise, Mitsuru Suou. I understand that you were deeply in love with the Princess, as was the entire Lunar Race. What you have observed is true; there is no ill effect upon our noble race without the Teardrop. We are also greatly endebted to the Princess, as she healed Shirogane and even myself. Therefore, she deserves to live longer. I hereby grant you permission to restore our beloved Princess's life." The Empress hid a tiny smile behind her floral patterned fan as the tengu's eyes lit up with joy. Glancing over to Keiko and Hokuto coldly, her voice changed from gentle to harsh, "And as for these two, they are to excecuted upon the next full moon, in a fortnight. The murder of the Princess is unexcusable. My Shirogane and I have taken personal offense. You are dismissed to revive the Princess, tengu Mitsuru."

Nodding her head once towards the guards, the Empress pulled the screen in front of her and Shirogane shut as she held her overjoyed, crying son tightly to her, a happy grin painted on her face. On the other side, Mitsuru watched with a cold fascination as Hokuto and Keiko were dragged away towards the dungeons, where they would spend the last two weeks of their miserable(as far as the tengu was concerned) lives. Holding the Teardrop tightly to his chest, Mitsuru turned around sharply and headed towards the temporary resting place of Mahiru's body.

Somewhere in the palace...

He could hear her. He could hear her voice, the shivering movements of her body, her fearful, ragged breathing as she took in her surroundings with terror. His sharpened sense of hearing took this all in, his ears perked - and it tortured his mind, body, and soul.

Akira remembered her, his love of a long ago lost within the cruel recessess of Time. She had left like the dew upon the grass in the morning sun, and no amount of tears had brought her back with him. The werewolf was determined to bring her joy at least in the last two weeks of her life, knowing this from what he heard from her erratic sobs. His face was set ablaze, knowing very well that the bastard Hokuto was behind it all, and she was to lose her life because of his horrible deeds. Growling with surpressed fury, Akira scampered down to the dungeons where he knew she was held. He would give her the love that she deserved, the love Hokuto had never provided.

Down the winding stares, deep underground into the palace Akira went, almost flying due to his extreme speed. His nose detected her sweet scent, unchanged even after five long years. The werewolf followed the trail, and almost flew past the cell, with all of his vigour, in which she was held. His gaze softened immediately upon seeing her distressed condition, his ears drooping. Keiko was held in one of the lower security cells, one that allowed anyone to freely move in and out except her, as she was bound to the area by a strong magic. His body sliding through the earthen bars like melting ice, Akira slid into the cage softly, placing a hand on the seer's shoulder.

"Keiko-chan," he whispered almost incoherently, more like a breath than actual speech. The one whom the werewolf had addressed snapped her head up, her face coming within inches of Akira's, as she suddenly reconized his face, once buried beneath the darkness.

"Akira..."

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I'm evil. More cliffys.**

**I love all my reviewers - sorry for the wait. Study, study, study...**


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